Ego and Desire
by Chibi Chiriko
Summary: Schuldich and Crawford have a most interesting conversation in the middle of an 'unexplained' brownout... yaoi, no lemon, spoiler-free.


* Before anything else, I'd like to thank the three wonderful  
people who volunteered to beta this fic: Ari, Bright Angel   
and Gryvon. ^_^ Because of you three, this fic was MAJORLY improved,   
and I also picked up some tips to remember from the comments you   
gave me. Thank you soooooo much, I really appreciate the help!   
  
  
  
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Ego and Desire   
by Chibi Chiriko   
  
  
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Weiß Kreuz does not belong to me. All standard  
fanfic disclaimers apply.   
  
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WARNING: This story contains helpings of shounen ai.   
That's male/male attraction/love for you rookies, so  
if that's not your cup of tea, you'd be better off  
heading elsewhere for a snack. Veteran fans and  
curious initiates, do come in and have a sampling.   
^_~   
  
  
For the spoiler-conscious, worry not! There will be no  
spoilers at all in this fic, although if you're super-new to  
the series and don't know anything about the characters,  
you'll probably be a bit confused...   
  
  
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"Schuldich. SCHULDICH!"   
  
The name was repeated several times by an angry voice,  
bouncing violently off the walls of the ears and mind  
of the man being addressed. The red-haired telepath   
smiled knowingly to himself, the grin on his face safely  
concealed in the darkness of the kitchen. He was no  
stranger to the exasperated tone of voice that had   
been used on him so many times in the past, and he already   
knew the reason behind the exasperation *this* time.  
  
He knew from Crawford's impatient tone that the other man   
wanted to see him in the living room immediately, but he   
would not give him the satisfaction of doing so. No, he   
wanted Crawford to come to *him.*   
  
For the briefest slice of a moment, two wily, cat-green  
eyes gleamed to life in the dark.   
  
Schuldich toyed patiently with the loose scarlet strands  
of his hair while he waited, humming a low German tune  
under his breath. Oh, the other man would come, he   
knew--the other man *always* came to him in the past,   
his patience taut to the point of snapping, knowing Schuldich  
could hear him, but chose simply not to cooperate.   
  
This time, Schuldich didn't have to wait too  
long, for the sounds of deliberate footsteps   
and muttered curses were headed his way, and he could   
practically *feel* the other man seething through   
the walls. A moist, pink tongue slowly dampened his   
lower lip as anticipation sang in his veins, and   
his heartbeat quickened eagerly.   
  
It was like this every time.   
  
The kitchen door was flung open, and it was a good thing  
Schuldich didn't look up, for the newcomer had a flashlight,  
and shone it directly in the telepath's face.   
  
"Good evening, Bradley," Schuldich drawled, tilting his  
head away from the glare of the light, speaking in   
the other man's native tongue.   
  
Crawford gazed at him coldly. "I'm not even going to  
ask you how you did it," he said frostily.   
  
Schuldich widened his eyes into a pair of innocent  
jade orbs. He let the tips of his eyebrows droop  
forward into a questioning expression, the sides  
of his mouth curving slightly downward. He would  
have had any other easily fooled. "What are you implying,   
Bradley?" he queried softly, knowing that the charming   
tone of his voice would get to the older man.   
  
It did.   
  
Crawford's jaw tightened; had he been like other  
men, he would have blown off his top, spitting rage  
and chaos everywhere. His self-restraint truly was  
an object of wonder, and Schuldich took personal  
delight in seeing how far he could push him.   
  
"I know you were behind the 'unexplained' power  
outtage here," Crawford said, through clenched   
teeth. And then, he added:   
  
"I am tired of your games, Schuldich."  
  
Schuldich blinked, not expecting that, and Crawford  
flashed him an arrogant sneer.   
  
"Surprised you, didn't I?" he said smugly.   
  
Schuldich serenely smiled back. "The only thing that  
surprises me about you, Bradley, is why you   
keep doing this to yourself. You seem to revel  
in this self-imposed torment of yours."   
  
He stood up. Slowly, purposefully, he stepped forward  
to stand beside Crawford. The older man did not move,   
yet his disdainful brown eyes followed Schuldich's every  
move.   
  
"The only one making you suffer is yourself.  
I want you. I've made that clear on countless  
occasions. You want me, and you *know* it.   
And yet you hold back. You put up a front   
to turn me away, when you only know it will  
draw me closer, like a moth to the enticing  
light of the flame. And you persist in your   
'defense', knowing that the more stubborn you  
appear to be in your resistance, the more   
determined I become to have you.  
  
"I think you are the one playing games here,  
Bradley. You set up a challenge knowing it'll  
only serve to make me attempt to overcome it.  
And that is what you enjoy, isn't it, Bradley?   
Watching me suffer in my attempts to seduce you,  
while you yourself suffer in pretending to refuse,  
even though you want it as well. It is your ego  
at work here, desiring to be desired, needing to  
see how hard one will push, one will go, just  
to have you."   
  
Schuldich had to admire Crawford's control over  
his facial expressions. He *knew* the man just  
*had* to be sweating under that stiff collar!   
Yet the man still managed to maintain his composure,   
even as he eyed Schuldich warily.   
  
"Then," Crawford said softly, "if you   
*do* believe that this is what I want,   
why don't you just take me by force and  
ignore me if I protest?"   
  
Schuldich laughed shortly, watching the  
muscles on Crawford's nape visibly tense   
at the sound.   
  
"Believe me, I've done that in my dreams,"   
Schuldich said smoothly. "But I don't have any  
intention of doing that now, tempting as it  
may be. You see, Bradley, I really think  
that this whole elaborate scheme of  
seduction is silly and frustrating. I want  
you, you want me, and we both know it. We're  
responsible adults, we've got nothing to  
lose by letting ourselves indulge. Yet  
here you are, dodging when your heart   
would rather be pounced, saying no when  
you really mean yes. If you say it's   
because you think it's wrong, I'm not  
buying it. I know you don't have a   
conscience, Bradley, because neither do I."  
  
It was Crawford's turn to laugh. The sound was  
spooky, sending a prickle of goosebumps   
across the surface of the flesh hidden   
underneath Schuldich's long sleeves.   
  
"I think you actually believe what you are  
saying, Schuldich," Crawford said  
incredulously. "Honestly now, have you   
plucked this all from my mind?"  
  
"No," Schuldich muttered.  
  
"But--" he went on, interrupting Crawford before  
the older man could speak. "I don't need to read  
your mind to understand the way it works, Bradley."   
  
Crawford didn't reply. He and Schuldich both knew  
that if anything else were to come out of his  
mouth after that, it would have to be a lie.   
  
Schuldich smirked at Crawford, knowing full well  
that he had won in this round.   
  
"I'll leave you now, Bradley, to get the power  
back on," he said gaily, sauntering away from  
the older man. "I'll leave you to the agony   
that is so precious to you, and I'm leaving you knowing  
that when you touch yourself later before going   
to bed, you'll be thinking of what I've just told  
you, repeating my words over and over again in  
your head."   
  
He paused, and then, without looking at Crawford,  
added softly:   
  
"You *do* know that you won't be able to keep   
this up forever."   
  
Schuldich reached into his pocket and removed  
the penlight he kept handy. Moving toward  
the far side of the kitchen, he switched on   
the light and shone it upon the circuitry he had  
manipulated to cause the brownout. As he reached  
for the small box of tools he left on the  
floor, he heard the squeak of leather shoes upon  
the marble floor, and knew without having to  
look that Crawford was on his way out of the  
kitchen.   
  
Out of the kitchen... but not out of the  
game of ego and desire. Not quite yet.   
  
A few moments later, the electricity in the  
house was back on. And as Schuldich rinsed his  
dust-coated hands at the sink, he heard a low  
voice moaning out his name in the room above  
the kitchen.   
  
He grinned, and chuckled softly. He pitied  
Bradley Crawford, he really did.   
  
"Well, maybe it's time to put the poor man   
out of his misery," he murmured slyly.   
  
  
END   
06/01/01   
12:03 a.m.   
Tweaked - 12:27 p.m.   
eichinkukai@hotmail.com   
REVISED: 06/15/01 


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